


unexpected friends, unexpected time

by orphan_account



Category: Kubo and the Two Strings (2016), ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: (I'll explain more fully in the notes), Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Gen, Loss, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Time Travel, ending spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There are never endings to a story, for it is never truly over. There is only a new beginning after each quest—and with each quest comes a new life, new knowledge and new faces.And with that comes the time to ғᴀʟʟ.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nico (thetransalien)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nico+%28thetransalien%29), [HayaMika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayaMika/gifts).



> I know that this may seem like a strange ship, but with the similarities in both characters (minus the eye trauma, parental death, movie settings, etc etc) it doesn’t seem all that unlikely.
> 
> And with regard to the “time travel” tag; yes, I know, it’s a common trope. But it is the only way I could try making this work in the canon verses. Bear with me, folks.
> 
> But anyway, here you have a post-canon prologue. Enjoy.

Kubo’s life doesn’t appear to change much after his quest is over—but it does change. It changes drastically.

During the day, when Kubo heads out into the village, he tells stories. But this time, his stories have endings—although they are mostly bittersweet endings, for the hero of the tale isn’t so lucky sometimes. But the hero’s companions never live to tell their tales.

Kubo’s hands shake when he picks up his shamisen, and they still shake when he plucks its strings—but the villagers never grow impatient with him and neither does his grandfather. They all listen to his stories, and it makes Kubo wonder how things would’ve turned out had he lived in another village.

Kubo thinks it’s funny how the villagers herald him as a hero. He thinks it’s hilarious how they say he’s so strong, when sometimes, he feels so tired and worn out and his body aches.

(Sometimes Kubo wonders if this was how his mother felt when she held back her magic, if this was how his father felt when he had been trapped inside that form for so long—but then Kubo stops and shakes his head, pushing back those thoughts.)

Kubo doesn’t make any new friends, even after his quest is over. His only friend is an elderly woman named Kameyo, whom he sits by once the stories he tells are over. However, this time it’s different—for Raiden sits down beside his grandson, and laughs along with the two when Kameyo tells a joke.

Sitting between his grandfather and his adoptive grandmother reminds Kubo of the boat—and as he remembers this, he stops laughing and freezes. But he snaps back to reality when he hears Kameyo ask, “Kubo, are you alright?”

Kubo takes a deep breath in and then exhales. “Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” he manages to say, though he flinches when his grandfather places a hand on his shoulder.

Kubo hasn’t forgiven his grandfather fully. He’s still cautious when his grandfather is around, for he is worried that one day, the old man will remember everything about his past life—every single thing he’s done. Kubo’s afraid that one day, his grandfather will become the man he was before once again—a cruel, wicked monster.

And it hurts him to turn away from the only family member he has left. It makes him feel guilty to be afraid of said family member—and so, he quickly apologizes.

(Sometimes, he imagines that his grandfather would be cross with him for flinching—for showing signs of fear—but instead, the old man merely smiles and finds another way to calm his grandson down.

Usually, his tea does the trick.)

During the afternoon, Kubo goes to the cemetery. He carries with him two lanterns—his mother and father’s lanterns. He places the lanterns on a rock, and then kneels before it. He tells his parents of his day, how life with his grandfather is like, how his grandfather helps the villagers out, how he continues to tell stories to the villagers—he tells his mother and father how he misses them, and wishes they were there with him; alive, not dead.

When Kubo heads to the riverbank, he can feel his parents’ presence as he sets their lanterns afloat across the lake. He can feel his mother and father’s hands rest upon his back. He can see them at the corner of his eye for a moment—but soon, they’re gone.

But that doesn’t mean he’s alone now. For Raiden does go to the cemetery to search for his grandson. He finds the boy sitting at the riverbank. He goes over and sits down next to the boy, watching as the lanterns float away.

Raiden notices a smile on his grandson’s face and wonders why the boy is smiling, but chooses not to question it. He guesses that the boy is remembering the good times he had with his parents, before they died in a tragic accident—or at least, he thinks they died in a tragic accident.

During the night, Kubo and Raiden head back to the cave—the same cave Kubo had lived in with his mother eleven years ago. But the cave feels a little unfamiliar this time—it feels a little lonelier.

Dinner is quiet and fast, which isn’t different from every other meal Kubo’s had. After dinner, he tells more stories to his grandfather—though he mostly tells the tale of a mighty samurai and a strong warrior who descended from the heavens above.

His grandfather listens as he holds his hands above the dying fire as an attempt to warm them up a little—but he’s careful when he hovers his hands above the flame.

(“The world is so warm, yet I still feel cold,” he’d said the first time he’d done this. “My robes do not shield me from the cold, but perhaps the fire can melt it away.”)

Once he finishes the story, his grandfather asks, “How did my daughter—your mother—die?”

A lump forms in Kubo’s throat, but he manages to gulp it down. He tries to explain the story—and for a moment, he does explain some details, but soon he remembers the events that took place at the fortress, and he chokes up. Tears blur his vision, and he tries wiping them away, only to bury his face in his hands and sob.

Raiden feels guilty, and so he hugs his grandson and pats his back. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have asked…”

After a while, Kubo stops crying. He sniffles and hugs his grandfather. He then notices the curious look on the old man’s face, and then follows his gaze, only to see that the moon has risen.

A week ago, the full moon had been a terrifying sight to see, for it had brought his aunts’ attention to where he was, but now…

Kubo stares at the moon, in all its glory. The sight of it no longer scares him, but instead it fills him with wonder.

“Even with all the stars in the sky, the moon still shines brighter,” Raiden remarks. He looks over at his grandson and asks, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Kubo nods quietly.

 

When the two head to bed, Kubo stares back at the moon. He thinks of what he’s lost, but then he thinks about what he’s gained.

He’s lost a father and a mother, but gained a grandfather—granted, his grandfather doesn’t recall much of his past life, but perhaps it’s for the best that he doesn’t remember. Perhaps it’s better that he only recalls a few things, Kubo thinks.

He still feels lonely. Sure, there are people he can talk to, but he still feels as if no one truly understands him.

Kubo then looks back at the papers stacked up, and then at the two origami figures by the stack of papers—a monkey and a beetle.

He sighs quietly, then closes his eye and drifts off to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Norman’s life changes and it is evident on what changes and what doesn’t.

His family actually tries to look at things from his perspective. Perry no longer brushes off his son’s communications with his deceased grandmother as lies or nonsense, and he tries to make up for the things he said in the past. Sandra remains supportive of her son, and no longer argues with her husband over their son’s talent. Courtney no longer acts mean-spirited towards her brother, for she really does love her brother despite everything.

Grandma Babcock doesn’t change, really. She still sits on the couch and communicates with her grandson before he heads off to school. However, after the witch’s curse incident, she often tells her grandson how proud she is of him.

There are still some people in the town who give him looks, and even call him a “witch boy” sometimes. It’s not a surprise to him, though. He doesn’t expect everyone to understand him, nor does he expect no one to judge him. After all, not everyone in the town was used to the idea of some people being able to communicate with ghosts—after all, when he was alive, Mr. Prenderghast never went through a day without being insulted for his gift; so the same goes for his great-nephew, except it is merely stares and whispers this time.

Norman still has only two friends; Neil and Salma. Neil is the only one who’s stood by Norman throughout the years—even when everyone had doubted him. And although Salma doesn’t like to admit it, she does see him as a friend, even if there are times where she gets a little impatient with him.

Alvin doesn’t pick on Norman anymore, but that doesn’t mean the two are on good terms, either. While Alvin still claims to be the boy’s friend since childhood (only to impress some girls, though), and there are times where the two are partnered up for the same project, they aren’t really good acquaintances.

And then there’s Agatha, his cousin—albeit, a very distant relation, but still. After the incident, her spirit stays near the tree in the woods—the same tree where her mother had once took her to read stories to her a long time ago. She isn’t angry anymore, but that doesn’t mean she still isn’t upset, or that she’s forgotten what had happened all those years ago. But with the conversations she has with Norman, she manages to smile at least once each day. It’s gotten to the point where he’s the only one who can make her smile.

Speaking of conversations; everyday, Norman visits her tree. It’s become a habit; visiting his cousin, talking to her—it makes him feel better, sometimes. After all, they aren’t that different—and outcasts should stick together, he thinks.

And this day is no different, for it’s just another day where his peers whisper things behind his back, make offhand comments about him, and look at him as if he’s a freak. Although he is used to it, it still makes him feel unwelcome. So after school, he parts ways with Neil and heads to the woods. He says hello to some other ghosts along the way.

He then stops as he catches sight of her tree. He walks over to his cousin’s grave. He looks around, then calls out, “Aggie? Are you there?”

“Over here!” he hears a familiar voice call out from behind the tree, and then he hears a giggle. He turns around and sees some green mist. He tries looking more closely, and he sees the girl peeking from behind it.

Norman waves, then walks over to his cousin. “Hi, Aggie,” he greets her.

“Hello, Norman!” she says, her voice sounding cheerful. “It’s nice to see you again! It felt rather lonely today, sitting under the tree by myself,” she continues as the two sit down. She then stops talking once she notices the look on Norman’s face. His lips are curled down, and he’s staring at the ground. “…are you alright? You seem a little… off, today.”

“I’m tired,” he replies, his tone of voice sounding sad. He looks at Agatha and continues, “I’m tired of how everyone treats me as if I’m like a monster or a – a witch, and… I just wish there was someone who truly understands me. I just wish there was someone who… shared the same talent.” Norman pauses for a moment. “…I’m sorry,” he chuckles a bit. “I guess that’s asking too much?”

“I don’t think so,” Agatha replies. “I’ve always wanted to meet someone who’d listen to me, and wouldn’t see as some… you know… _witch_ ,” she says slowly, trembling a bit at the last word. “And when you helped me rest, I was happy to find someone who didn’t see me as one, but rather just a girl.” She pauses for a moment. “I wish I could help you—I really do, but I’m not alive… I’m _dead._ ” She frowns. “I’m sorry, Norman.”

“It’s fine,” the boy says, his tone of voice unchanging. “At least we can share some time together, right?” He fakes a smile, then asks, “Would you like to hear a story?”

“I’d love to,” Agatha says, smiling a little as she nods.

And so he tells her a story—a tale about a Puritan family. Once it’s over, she rests her head on his shoulder.

Norman looks up at the tree and thinks of what he’s gained and lost.

He’s lost a cousin (and technically also gained)—whom he didn’t even know he was related to until he’d heard her surname; Prenderghast—but he’s gained his family’s support.

However, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still an outcast.

 

Norman lets out a sigh and gets up. “Goodbye,” he whispers to Aggie. “Rest well.”

And so, he heads home with a heavy heart.


End file.
